Helen walks in her house still dramatized by her prior dispute. She hears a voice soft but powerful call out
to her. She answers “Yes Papa,” as she walks into the kitchen where her father is reading the day’s newspaper. Her mother is present in the kitchen making supper this is a familiar scene at the Jones’ residence. “Were you out with that northern boy, again?” Her father asked her implying to Gary who was from New York, so Papa always referred to him as northern boy.

Helen felt her heart enter her stomach because she realized this was the time to tell her parents. “I have
to tell you something Papa. Mama you too,” she mumbled then seated herself. Both of her parents suddenly became sentiment neither knew what to expect. Helen was glad they were both present with open ears, so she would only have to say it once. Her father becoming impatient spoke, “Are you going to tell us today?” The suspense was thick, but Helen quickly cut it thin, “I’m pregnant.” Helen spit out the words fast but they were well understood and resented.

The room fell silent only sound to be heard was her father shifting in his favorite chair. Papa looked at her
with eyes filled with disappointment as he felt a tear forming in his eye he ceased it with a protest. “What the
hell wrong with you girl didn’t I teach you better than to go out here run and get pregnant,” he yelled. Her mother intervened playing the role of the mediator, “Calm down Papa, can’t cha see the girl already hurts enough.” Papa looked at the two most important women in his life with rage; knowing he was too angry to handle the dilemma he marched to his room. Helen was glad that Papa left, now her and her mother could have a one-on-one, a more subtle conversation.

Helen mother made Helen a cup of hot tea hoping to warm her body with it. “So what does Gary think, you
did tell him didn’t cha?” her mother asked expecting the worst answer. “He said he don’t want nuffin to do with
me and the baby,” she exclaimed wiping tears from her cheeks. “Ya Pa told cha that that boy wasn’t a lick of good,” her mother stated in reference to how hard headed Helen was. “Well ya know ya got to get a job now, bringing another mouth in here and all,” her mother informed. “I know mama,” Helen replied then finished her tea. She went straight to bed; after she soaked the pillow she fell fast asleep.

 

The next morning at sunrise Helen awoke and put on her most professional attire then she practiced in the
mirror on how to talk to the white employers. Papa was stunned to see Helen dressed and ready, but he showed no glee. Tough love was the way he always loved his only girl, but after last night he began to question his own parenting method. When she sat for breakfast Papa hopped up like a skunk had entered the kitchen. “You can use my truck I’m riding with your uncle James. You best of find a job with it ,” Papa told Helen without a glance in her direction.

Helen was hurt by his distant behavior towards her, but she was glad he left the keys to the truck. He also
left his newspaper on the table the classified section; he circled different jobs for Helen. Most of the jobs he circled were for waitresses or housekeepers. Helen looked beyond the circles and called a business to inquire on a data entry clerk position. She practiced her rapport as the phone rang then a man spoke on the other end; Helen told him the nature of her call. Immediately he asked her if she had experience in the desired field, once she said she didn’t the conversation nose dive her rebuttals fell on dead ears. When she hung up she decided to stay within the lines.

Helen set up an interview for a housekeeping position in the Colonial Williamsburg area. She was excited
to meet the lady that she spoke with over the phone; she hopped in her father’s truck and followed the directions she was given. The truck was far from a beauty, but it would get her to point B. Helen felt out of place when she entered the neighborhood where the woman stayed. The houses were big and beautiful, her father’s truck stood out like a sore thumb.

 

 

i